The Lesser of Two Evils
by sophiedoodle
Summary: Janeway's thoughts about her confrontation with Noah Lessing.


The Lesser of Two Evils

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. are owned by Paramount.

Chakotay may never look at me the same way again. Maybe none of them will. They must all know by now, know how I basically went crazy and almost killed one of the crew members of the Equinox just to get Ransom's tactical status. Chakotay would never breathe a word, but I can see it in their eyes, in the sideways glances and uncomfortable shifting that occurs any time one of them accidentally meets my gaze. Most of the senior staff were on the bridge and heard my conversation with Tuvok. And they must notice how Chakotay has taken over, subtly of course, but he's the one sitting in the big chair at the end of the table, not me. I'm just watching now, waiting.

Chakotay is smoothly, eagerly setting forth his plans to locate and contact the Ankari using the information that Noah Lessing provided. His tone is animated, and the rest of the senior staff are caught up in his excitement, in his _surety_ that somehow this will make things better, that somehow this will work. And maybe it will. Chakotay has good instincts; he is a skilled communicator and diplomat even under intricate circumstances. He's proven that time and again. But right now, he's on the wrong track. He's trying to place a bandage over the wound instead of tending to the injury itself. And that injury begins with Rudy Ransom.

I know that I've destroyed Chakotay's trust in me. Perhaps forever. Oh, when this is all over, he'll still support me as the captain of this ship. He's too honorable and moral to do anything else. But somewhere deep inside, he'll never be quite certain about my intentions again. He'll hold me at arms length and reserve his judgment for a better day. Maybe, in time, he'll even begin to look at me the way I look at Ransom. With loathing, disgust, _fear._

Ransom didn't start out the way he is now. He was an honorable Starfleet officer who was dragged into the same situation that we were out here in the Delta Quadrant. The first time the crew of the Equinox killed one of the aliens, it was purely accidental. Surely there must have been grief. Remorse. But it quickly grew into something far more insidious when they realized the power they held in their hands, when they realized that suddenly, irreversibly, they held the solution to getting back to the Alpha Quadrant faster than they ever could have dreamed possible. The battle began between the classic moral dilemma and the potency of human desire.

But Ransom eventually gave in to his _need _and the inevitable happened. What began as only a part of him quickly became all that he was. Ransom is a reminder of what could happen to me, of what could happen to any of us, if we let down our guard even for the tiniest moment, if we take even one step towards the darkness that often beckons so innocuously. Rationalization in all of its own glory, the hand that has probably decimated more of the innocent than the sword.

The meeting is almost over. Chakotay is handing out duty assignments, making last minute adjustments to their strategies. I know they see me here, a vague figure in the background, illuminated only by the distant light from a million stars in the viewscreen behind me. I could almost be invisible except for the way their eyes continue to flicker worriedly in my direction once in a while and in the uncomfortable way they just as quickly skitter away. They don't understand. None of them do. And perhaps they never will. It's difficult to understand the burdens of being the captain, impossible, really, to convey the perspective I am constantly forced to maintain, a viewpoint that is not always the same as I would choose under any other circumstance. They think I'm wrong. They think I'm out to punish Ransom because he betrayed us. That couldn't be further from the truth.

They need to understand the very real danger of being out here all alone. It's the question that constantly hangs above our heads daily, teasing us mercilessly with its chorus. Do we stick to our principles or do we throw them away because something easier comes along? Something that expedites the process of our lives, ostensibly relieves our burdens just that much, and the hell with the fact that it violates every tenet of humanity. What's right? What's wrong? Do we let our ideals become merely relational to the context of our lives or do we contextualize our lives to perpetuate those ideals? When does what's right and what's wrong suddenly become what's right at this moment and wrong in the next? But truly, it isn't sudden. It never is, and that's what makes what Ransom's done all the more devastating. He's shown the slow fade toward darkness that can happen to any one of us, even me. Perhaps that's what scares me the most. That constancy of choice, every minute of every day that defines everything that we are.

It's all too easy to give up, to give in, to become everything you swore you would never be—and believe me, there's moments when that temptation is almost too much to bear. I'm angry with him because he allowed himself to become everything that I fight not to become out here. When it comes right down to it, he made me feel even more alone.

Although maybe _I_ gave in a little today, gave in to my own need for just a moment. But it was so very different from what Ransom did. I have to hold on to that. Those aliens were innocent. Dragged out of their realm and butchered just so an errant starship could go a little faster on its way.

But Lessing is far from innocent. He participated in murder, multiple times, and now he refuses to give me information that would stop this slaughter from happening yet again. That would stop us from ever becoming what the crew of the Equinox has become. It is a twice betrayal—once to Starfleet, once to humanity itself. I'm not sure how to go about forgiving—or if I even should.

I gave him a choice, I warned him what would happen if he didn't tell me what I wanted to know. But he simply looked at me with disgust, perhaps even the way he looked at Ransom in the beginning, and just told me to go to hell. I had to make him understand, I had to make him know just how serious I was, just how serious the entire situation is. It's life or death. For all of us.

I gave him a choice. The aliens had none.

Ransom betrayed the aliens' trust. But I betrayed the trust of every crew member on this ship.

I'm not so sure right now if I'm still the lesser of the two evils.

But if it saves my crew in the end, it's worth it.

I'm more than willing to make that sacrifice for them.

The End


End file.
